The Old-Fashioned Way
by Fyrie
Summary: During Angelus' time in Sunnydale, the Council are up-in-arms and an ancient vampire is on its way to Sunnydale to find Angelus....


Lightening tore across the bleak London sky, casting eerie shadows rippling across the gleaming wooden panels

Lightening tore across the bleak London sky, casting eerie shadows rippling across the gleaming wooden panels. The twin oaken doors towered ominously at the end of the unnerving halls, massive bronze rings glinting against the wood.

His shoes clacking on the paneled floor, the balding Englishman adjusted his tie uneasily, before reaching up and - after a moment's hesitation - knocking briskly on the wide doors.

The sound echoed down the high-gabled passage. Moments passed, the sound filtering off into an unnerving silence only broken by the pattering of icy rain against the high windows that ran along the parallel walls of the hall.

Inhaling a slow breath, the man swallowed hard. For the umpteenth time, he wished he hadn't been the unfortunate sod to be conned into doing this duty, again. This was the one task that no sane Council member ever wished to do. But - in an inebriated moment - he'd been made an offer that he couldn't refuse. 

Literally.

After what seemed like an eternity, both doors swung silently inwards, a wordless invitation.

Beyond the doorframe, the dimly lit room looked normal, even welcoming. A large desk and expensive-looking chair of black leather stood in one corner. Flickering light illuminated the book-lined walls, a thick oriental carpet spread across the otherwise-bare floor.

A warming blaze swirled in the fireplace to the right of the door, the curtained-off area on the left concealed from view as always.

It was rumoured – of course – that there were numerous hidden passages, stemming from this single room. That they spread – warren-like – through the building, so that the Master of the Council knew every single thing that went on in every part of the building at any given time. But they were rumours. Nothing more.

Cold sweat beaded his forehead as he stepped nervously across the thresh hold, a physical chill emanating through him. Folding his hands gravely, Travers glanced around the room, searching for the solitary occupant.

"You must be very respected." An icy voice murmured. "Or you're the biggest chump of all of them. This is the third time you've been...nominated to be the one to see me." If it had been anyone else speaking, he would have sworn they were being humorous.

But not the Council Master.

"It...it's an honour." He sheepishly replied, pivoting to face the owner of the voice. The figure stood – silently – silhouetted against the flickering glow of the golden flames that danced in the marble-lined fireplace. Formidable and dark.

He felt the icy gaze fall on him skeptically. "Then why did Philip Lloyd pay you to do 'the dirty work' for him?"

Quentin's heart sank. As usual, nothing escaped the attention of their quietly powerful employer. The subject of 'payment' had arisen when he and Lloyd had met in a bar. Even far from the Council, nothing was out of reach of the figure before him.

Dark eyes gazed impassively back at him for a moment, devoid of emotion. "Moving on," Stretching out both hands to warm at the fire, there was a momentary pause, a silence only broken by the crackling flames. "I believe you have some notion why you are here."

"Would it be in the context of Sunnydale?" He hazarded a guess, since it was the only thing that had been discussed by the lower Council members, of late. The return of Angelus had been something of a scandal for them, but there seemed nothing to be done.

Until now.

"Indeed." Casually walking back across the wide floor, the Council Master sank into the leather seat behind the desk, fingers steepled, dark eyes fixed on the man's nervous face. "It has not escaped my notice that the lower members believe I should be acting on the events that have occurred on Boco Del Infierno."

"Th...they simply are of the opinion th...that Mister Giles can not manage efficiently enou..." Travers trailed off, the chilling glare he received dissolving all his arguments.

"And you. What would you have me do?" The soft tone of the low, dangerous voice didn't deceive him for a moment, so he held his tongue, waiting. "Would you do a better job? You wish to volunteer to take the place of Mister Giles, in California?"

"I...I don't believe I have sufficient experience..."

One dark eyebrow rose. "Just say it." The neutral tone of voice never changed. "You're afraid. You would piss your pretty pants with terror the moment you faced a fraction of the things they face on a daily basis."

Travers' jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay silent. The Master had survived far too many assassination attempts to be looked at with anything more than respect and reverence. 

Anyone who did otherwise would quite probably end up dead within days. He knew the Master had been with the Council far longer than his thirty years, so - for him - silence presided over suicidal righteous indignation.

"Do you have a suggestion what I ought to do?" Yet another dangerously rhetorical question. Conversations with this employer were like walking through a field filled with land mines. One step wrong and that would be the end of it.

Giving a noncommittal shrug, he folded his hands behind his back.

"Well," With an emotionless smile, the lilting voice continued emptily. "I have decided what I'm going to do."

"What would that be?" Maintaining his calm with a practiced ease he had gained from years of keeping himself alive, within the Council, Travers inclined his head.

There was a tight smile. "Send in someone...special." The smile was a deadly one.

"The Second Slayer?"

"I was thinking more along the lined of someone who would actually terrify Angelus, not just another violent little girl." A look of doubtful understanding crossed the man's sweat-sheened features. "If a legendary vampire pops up, think it would be effective?"

There was a splutter of astonishment. "You can't mean...the Old One?" He met an impassive stare. "But...bringing it back out of containment after all these years...are you certain that is wise?"

Narrow shoulders rose in the slightest gesture of a shrug. "No one knows the identity of the Old One." The steepled fingers folded down. "Not many living people, anyway." Dark eyes flitted away towards the window. "No one really knows whether to believe if the legend is true. Not even you." 

There was a sardonic smile. "For all you know, the Old One may simply be an elaborate hoax. Simply...mythical." There was a cruel chuckle. "Some Council Members even had the audacity to doubt me when I mentioned the subject, several years ago. Called me a liar, can you credit it?"

That was when he – Travers – was still only a Junior Council Member. It was the year that four Senior Councilors had decided their 'boss' was getting too powerful and had attempted an unsuccessful assassination. 

From what he heard, they had died slowly and painfully for their betrayal of the sacred Watcher's code.

After that incident, all Council Members had taken careful note to never, ever do anything that might vaguely put their bollocks on the line.

The Boss definitely had a superbly functional loyalty scheme in practice. No one had dared to betray the Council since then.

"Since so many of the Council doubt," He selected his words carefully. "Why is there any reason that the vampires would believe it? It's been so long since anyone has seen the Old One."

The toothy grin that was chillingly flashed at him sent a shiver down his spine. "They would believe, all right." Overconfidence wasn't a particular weakness for this character. "Even if a little proof is needed to get them warmed up."

"And there's no way you can be talked out of this course of action?" A single, skeptical eyebrow rose in response. "Very well. What are your orders?"

A flicker of lightening drew his companion's attention for a brief instant. "Arrange for the pressure-proof, sealable coffin to be removed from the vault, then contact the travel agents and ask them to arrange transport for it to L.A." 

There was a long pause. "I'll contact our agent in L.A. and make sure everything else goes as planned."

"Will you be contacting Mister Giles?" The note of disdain in the Travers' voice was more than apparent.

"That is not your concern." A distant look filtered into the dark eyes "I trust this meeting will remain between us, my friend? I would loathe to find out that my surprise had been...spoiled in some way."

No implication was necessary. The tone of voice never even lilted towards threatening, maddeningly calm and quiet. But he knew exactly what was being said. 

No one double-crossed the boss and lived to tell. "It goes no further than these doors." He agreed.

With a casual wave, he was dismissed and he practically ran from the room, pulling the doors shut behind him, with a solid crash.

Leaning against the wall, Travers mopped his face with his kerchief, his hands trembling, his shirt soaked with sweat.

If the Order of Teraka had seemed like a terrifying threat to the kids in Sunnydale brats, he couldn't help but wonder how they would deal with the Old One.

*

"Miss Edith tells me that daddy is going to be punished." Drusilla conversationally plucked the curled petals off a withered daisy. "She is being such a little tittle tattle again."

"What was that, pet?" Raising his pale blue eyes from the floor, the crippled vampire pushed his chair forward slowly, moving towards his lover. "What do you hear?"

"Sh!" Pressing one slim fingertip to her lips, the dark vampiress sank to her knees with a low cry of pleasure. "She's dead!" She cooed happily. "She can't break up our happy home now. Not ever." Whispering, her dark hair tumbled over her face. "Her blood. It screams in my head. So beautiful!"

Spike nodded, his usual patience for his Princess as tender as ever. "But what did Miss Edith tell you about Angel, luv?" He coerced her gently, as her eyes started flitting around the room, her hands trembling. "Dru?"

"NO!" Golden eyes jerked round to focus on his face, a look of horror on her features. Her claws lengthened, rising to tear into the flesh of her cheeks, blood pouring from the gouges she inflicted on herself, as she screamed. "Nononononono!"

"Dru?" Throwing himself out of the chair onto his weak knees beside her, Spike grabbed her wrists, his eyes meeting her wide demon ones. "Princess, what is it? What do you see, luv?" Her human mask slid back into place, her lip trembling.

The blonde was startled to see a tear breaking from the corner of her eye and trickling silently down her taut, death-white cheeks. The fearful expression on her face sent a jolt of fear through him. Drusilla never cried. Never.

Her shaking hands grasped his upper arms, staring at him full of hope and desperation. "Don't let it hurt me, my Spike." Clinging to him, she sobbed. "You'll protect Princess, won't you? You won't let Princess get dusty will you?"

"You know I would never let that happen." Spike promised tenderly, cupping her face in his hands. "I'll take care of you, no matter what happens, you know that." She nodded. "Now, luv, help me back in my chair and then you can tell me what's happening, eh?"

An arm under his shoulder, she raised him gently into his chair, sliding onto his lap and snuggling against him. Slipping his arms around her waist, he soothingly ran a hand down her slender thigh.

"So, Princess," Feeling the reassuringly familiar sensation of her dark head resting against his shoulder, her fingertips dancing over his stomach, a low crooning rose in his throat. "Tell me, what it is that got you so worried."

Drusilla toyed with the front of his duster, her head bowed, eyes fixed on the buttons of his shirt. "You won't be angry with Princess if I tell you?"

Tipping her chin up, Spike ran his thumb over her cheek. "I could never be angry with you, Drusilla." He vowed, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head.

She nodded absently, curling a lock of her dark hair around her fingertip, her tears of a moment before, forgotten. "Why does the Slayer continue to persecute us?" She asked herself softly, Spike's hand smoothing her dark mane lightly.

"Come on, luv." He prompted lightly. "Miss Edith told you something. I like knowing your secrets. Will you tell me?"

Bending to pick the fallen doll from the floor, Drusilla absently traced one nail along the doll's gagged mouth, the trembling in her hands returning, as she widened her eyes. "She lies!" She gasped, clinging to Spike. "Oh, Spike, she is telling such horrible stories!"

Holding her protectively in his arms, he soothed her gently, tenderly. "Come on, pet." He crooned, as she buried her face in his chest. "Tell me."

"The Old One." She gasped raggedly, hurling Miss Edith away, the doll tumbling in a heap in the dust. Tearful, gold-tinted eyes rose to stare fearfully up at him. "The Old One is coming."

*

Under the cover of the darkness, a shadowy figure glided silently towards the window; pushing aside strips of yellow police tape that criss-crossed the entrance to climb easily over the ledge.

A feeling of dread permeated the whole apartment, the shadows seeming to extend to encompass the whole room.

The scent of death was overpowering, mingled with the flavour of spilled wine. Tainted by the fragrance of burnt-out vanilla-perfumed candles and red roses, the air was oppressively morbid. A romantic scenario gone horrifically and tragically wrong.

Buttery golden light filtered from a small lamp that stood on the table. Kneeling, the intruder pulled open each drawer in turn, going through each pile of papers and folders with methodical efficiency.

Moving from desk, to book shelf, everything was left as the intruder found it, neat and organised, no sign that anyone had even been there.

Finally withdrawing a single object from one of the chests that lined the wall, a fingertip trailed across the image, then the small object was laid on the bare desk, the single lamp being flicked off deftly.

A single moonbeam gleamed through the window, illuminating the deserted, tragic scene as the spectre-like figure faded back into the shadows of the room, a tight-lipped smile on the pale face.

*

"I'm telling you, Angelus, I've never seen her feel this bad before!" Blue eyes defiantly met brown. "She was crying. In a hundred and twenty odd years with the chit, I've never seen her cry before. Something really has her freaked."

Angelus' eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "And she said it was the Old One?"

"That's what she said." Both vampires looked up as the chamber door creaked open. One of the former minions of the Anointed One stood there, shuffling his feet uneasily.

"Yes?" Angelus growled impatiently.

"A...a report just c...came in from...L.A." Extending a shaking hand gripping a folded sheet of paper, the younger vampire looked weak, terrified.

Snatching the paper with a low sigh of frustrated boredom at the ineptitude of his minions, Angelus scanned the words. Spike noticed the barely perceptible tightening of his Sire's jaw, a sign of anger, sometimes even fear.

The sheet fluttered unheeded to the floor abruptly. The minion squeaked with muffled terror as Angelus' clawed hand speared out and locked around his throat. "Is this report accurate?" He hissed, his eyes blazing.

"Y...yes, sir." The terror emanating from the younger vampire seemed to stem more from the contents of the letter than Angelus' increasingly tight grip on his throat.

Dropping the whimpering young vampire, Angelus' gaze fell, his hands gripping the high back of the elaborate chairs, the dark wood splintering under his fingers. "Get out." He snarled, driving his fist through the chair.

In a wise move, the minion turned tail and fled.

"Dru was right." Turning to his childe, the fear in Angelus' dark eyes stirred the beginnings of fear in the younger of the two vampires. "The Old One passed through L.A. two days ago...the entire Sunset Beach clan were wiped out for not 'being helpful' or something."

"And he did it alone?"

Angelus nodded slowly. "Almost fifty vampires killed in one sitting, by a single, old vampire."

Spike rubbed his neck thoughtfully. "The Sunset Beach clan...doesn't the L.A. Master belong to that clan?"

"He did." The dark vampire corrected.

"Bloody hell." Spike whistled through his teeth, taking stock of the scale of the L.A. vampire community's loss. "This Old One must be one mean son of a bitch."

"No one has survived an encounter with him and spoken of it." Angelus' tone was clipped. "If they survive, its been said that the Old One erases all memories of the meeting," Touching his temple, the dark vampire remarked. "Just by a touch. No one can even describe what he looks like."

"I'd guess bloody big and bad." Spike volunteered. "Just like you."

"Now, that's just too cute of you, childe of mine." Cuffing the bleached vampire across the head lightly, Angelus' humour lasted less than a heartbeat. "But its not very reassuring when I know I have to face him."

Striding away, the dark-haired vampire melded into the shadows, his childe stooping to lift the scrap of paper off the dust-coated floor, then reading the hastily scrawled words of a soon-to-be-dead vampire.

"The Old One seeks only the Angelic one."

Re-reading the same line several times over, Spike bit down on the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. Angelus had certainly gotten himself into some major crap this time.

*

Barely millimeters from the lock, the key trembled in Giles' hand. The last time he had entered this very house, he had found the body of the new love of his life, left in his bed as a sick gift, from Angelus.

Hesitantly, he pushed the door open, tearing aside the strips of police tape and switching the main light on, pushing the door slowly shut behind him.

His eyes immediately settled on something that was definitely not where it should have been.

With an unnerved frown, he approached the table, staring at the object that lay on the surface, caught in the glare of the lights from above, reflecting on the freshly-polished glass. A dark-haired, dark-eyed woman smiled out at him, a jolt of pain hitting him like and arrow to the heart.

Picking up the picture, his hands trembling feverishly, he stared at it for a long moment, then bent mechanically to lay it back in the bottom of one of the chests, tears gathering in his eyes at the pain that had never truly faded.

Slamming the lid of the chest down, he pressed one palm against the wall, his head hanging, as he fought back the onslaught of tears.

"I'm touched to se that you rate our relationship so highly, Roo." Silhouetted by the moonlight, the figure leaned against one of the window casings lazily, her long hair whipping wildly around her shadowed face.

"L...Lia?" Giles paled, snatching his glasses off and blinking several times, as if to clear his vision. "Is...is that really you?"

"Fraid so, Ripper, old boy." Shrouded in a black cloak that gave her an unfounded sinister air, she seemed to float down the stairs, her dark eyes finding his as she drew closer. "I heard what happened to...your friend." Pausing, searching for words, she gave him a sad smile. "I thought...you might forgive me...take some comfort in a familiar face." With a small shrug, she added. "I just wanted to see you, too."

"Ho...how did you get in here?" Taking a step towards her, he fought back the surge of resentment he still felt.

Folding her arms nervously, she gave him a watery smile. "You said that where-ever you went, I would be welcome...which you probably wish you hadn't said now." Gesturing to the open window, she shrugged gracefully. "Couldn't resist the big 'break and enter' deal. Old habits and whatnot."

They gazed at one another for an eternity, brown eyes pleading for forgiveness from the deep, pain-filled green.

"God, I missed you so much, Lia." Grabbing the tiny woman roughly, Giles pulled her into a tight embrace, never seeing the tears of relief flood down her cheeks. "It's been too long. Far too long."

"I know, Roo." Clinging to him, she felt the reassuring touch of his hand smoothing her hair as it had so many times in the past. 

Drawing back, he led her round to the sofa, never relinquishing his grasp on her hand. "Why are you over here, anyway? The Council would never approve..." He turned to scrutinise her face. "Would they?"

"It's a long story." Dropping onto the sofa, she pulled her legs up underneath her. "The lower Councilors still think you're a worthless pillock who should never have been a Watcher." She gave him a small smile. "But, even if I am here on the Council business, I don't care about that for now."

Giles nodded, sinking down next to her, his eyes flitting away from her. "It can never be like it was, Lia." He whispered harshly. "Ever."

"I know." The pain in her voice was carefully masked. "But, never mind that now, my lovely." She drew him into a gentle, maternal embrace. "Now, you're going to tell me everything." 

She felt him stiffen. 

Raising a hand, she caressed his brow lightly. "Trust me, Roo, I'm here to take care of you. I don't plan on hurting you."

"I tell you what's up with me," Resting his head in her lap, he stroked her slender hand. "And you tell me why on earth the Council would let you come and see me, after everything."

"Sounds fair."

Closing his eyes, exhausted, the Watcher poured out all the grief and despair onto his old friend's attentive and receptive ears.

*

"Angelus, mate," Wheeling himself onto the main factory floor, Spike looked up at his Sire, who was stalking along the catwalks overhead, like some kind of sinister big cat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it?"

Folding his hands in his lap, the blonde vampire gazed coolly up at the dark-haired vampire. "Who exactly is 'The Old One' when he's at home?"

"You don't know?" Swinging over the rail of the catwalk, the dark vampire landed squarely on the table with a solid thump.

Spike sat back. "Well," He said with slow deliberation. "I get the feeling that there's one of him and he's old. How am I doing so far?"

"You know," Brown eyes flared into gold, one of the older vampire's hands wrapping around his childe's throat. "You should have been a comedian. However," Squeezing tighter as emphasis, Angelus narrowed his eyes. "The Old One is no laughing matter. He could destroy us all."

"So give me some bloody idea what we're up against!" Spike grated painfully, his hands tightening around the arms of his chair.

"The blood!" A piercing cry rang through the gallery, Drusilla's swirling skirts swept along the floor, as she danced into the hall, her feet moving in light steps across the floor. "It's got such wonderful magic."

"The Old One?"

The youngest of the triad's blue eyes flicked from his dangerously crazed Sire to his insane lover, taking in the contrasting attitudes. 

While Angelus looked frustrated, angry, even fearful, Drusilla looked as if she had been feeding off a junkie, a dopey grin on her face.

"Beautiful." The vampiress chanted, swishing her crimson petticoats in waves of ruffled silk around her slender body. "Pure and sweet and rich and strong and..."

Releasing Spike's throat, Angelus growled dangerously, slamming his fist down on the table with enough force to shatter the wood. Drusilla halted for a moment, staring at her Sire insolently before shrugging and dancing out of the room with a light laugh.

"Feeling the pressure, are you?" Spike touched his crushed throat with a wince of pain.

"Gee, what gave it away?" Angelus whipped round, his lips curled back from his fangs in a snarl. "You, my childe, are far too cocky for your own good. You have no idea..."

"So bloody well give me one."

The darker demon paused, staring up at the ceiling. "You never did take your history seriously, did you?" Dropping into one of the unbroken seats, he steepled his fingers, propped his feet on the table. "Name the oldest vampire you've heard of."

The blonde shrugged. "The Master?" He hazarded a guess.

"Not even close." Rubbing his neck, Angelus growled softly in his throat. "The Old One is the oldest vampire in the World...and the most powerful, if the rumours are true."

"How...old?"

"You may remember a story." Angelus examined his nails thoughtfully. "Guy preached a lot and got himself put on a nice big cross. Then, aforementioned guy died, rose and – in doing so – became the founder of a famous faith with the only Holy Objects with power to affect demons." Spike rolled his eyes boredly. "What is never mentioned," Angelus continued regardless. "Is the demon who drank from him, as he suffered and died. That very demon still walks the earth."

One scarred brow rose. "Cross? Crucifixion? The crucifixion?" A tickle of fear tingled down his spine as he met his Sire's tight gaze. "This is a vampire...that was actually there?" Working through the words, he gaped. "And he drank from HIM?"

Angelus' grin was far from humorous, his eyes dark. "Yep. Gave him super-demon powers or something along those lines." He shrugged. "You'd think it would have the same affect as Holy Water, but I guess nothing had significance until the resurrection." There was a pause. "So, we have a stake-happy, two-thousand year old demon with a plan to...meet me."

"Is it too late for you to skip the country?"

The dark-haired vampire shrugged. "He'll be here soon. I'm not running. Angelus never runs."

"Unless he has a bloody good reason." Spike suggested maliciously. "Look, mate, this oldie is going to kill you. Why not bugger off to safety? Do you think your hard man rep will make any soddin' difference if you're dust?"

"I'm not going anywhere." As stubborn as his childe, the vampire rose and stormed away.

"Then good luck, mate." Wheeling his chair in the opposite direction, Spike shook his head slowly. "You'll need it."

*

Arm-in-arm with Xander and Willow, Buffy entered the library, wondering what the new emergency was. All three were silent, Miss Calander's death the previous week still hanging heavily over their heads.

"Ah, Buffy." Giles looked up from the pile of books that surrounded him, then turned to a slight woman barely visible behind the heap of musty literature. "Lia, love, this is Buffy."

"The Slayer." Deep, brandy brown eyes – that reminded the trio of the late Jenny Calander – turned to the little group, smiling. Scrutinising the petite blonde girl, she inclined her head. "Oh Lordy, I must have been out somewhere when they started reducing the sizes! She's a small one, isn't she?"

"And you aren't?"

The woman laughed softly, her voice smoky. "Fiery." She remarked, the creamy expanse of scar-tissue spread across right side of her face stretching slightly as she smiled. "No wonder you have your hands full, Ripper." Crossing her arms, she regarded the blonde. "Nice to finally meet you."

"And you are...?" Taking a step towards the woman, Buffy narrowed her eyes, automatically slipping into defensive mode.

Giles rose, quickly stepping between the pair, trying not to smile at the mild antagonism his Slayer always felt when someone stole her limelight. 

"This," He said pleasantly, laying his hand on the small, arabian-looking woman's arm. "Is Lia, a-an associate...old friend from my training days."

"Bloody hell, Ripper." Chuckling, Lia patted his hand fondly. "Just say it, already. We were lovers before the Council kinda...came between us."

"You're...as old as him?" Buffy gestured at the Watcher.

"Thank you for that compliment, Buffy." Giles muttered under his breath, polishing his glasses.

The woman smiled again. Long black hair hung in a tight braid to her waist, the only signs of age or wear and tear the scar that seemed to cover most of the right side of her face. 

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands. "I admit it...I'm older than the grumpy, old sod." She flashed him a wicked grin. "Only I age better."

"Uh...huh." Crossing her arms, the Slayer looked suspiciously from the mysterious woman to her Watcher. "And why exactly are you here...Lia?"

Giles exchanged glances with the woman, then answered for her. "Lia is something of an expert in vampires." He clarified. "And she has heard that one in particular is searching for a certain vampire here in town." He paused. "Angelus."

The woman took over the story. "I just arrived from Los Angeles. An entire clan was wiped out by this particular demon there." She paused. "The Council kept their plans a secret, so I thought I better pop by and see if I could be of any help."

Buffy stiffened, her hazel eyes fixed on the woman. "Who is this vampire?" She demanded sharply. "And what would it want with Angelus?"

Propping herself against the table, her long trousers rising up her calves, the dark-haired woman ran her hand over her gleaming hair. 

"This vampire," She stated quietly. "Is the oldest vampire in the world, as far as we know. Quite possibly, it is the most powerful to live in this day and age. Needless to say an alliance with Angelus would prove...horrifying."

"Does it have a name?"

Lia nodded. "The Old One." She replied, examining a stake pensively. "Far older than the Master you knew. Not many people or vampires believe in its existence. Never seen or remembered."

"It wipes their memories?" Willow looked intrigued. "By magick of some kind?"

"Something like that." The woman nodded. "Any vampire who has a run in with it ends up dust or simply has no recollection. As for humans...they don't even know who or what they are dealing with."

"Wiggy." Xander plopped into one of the seats next to the table, eyeing the woman curiously. "How do you know so much about this 'Old One'?"

Toying with the high collar of her creamy shirt, Lia sighed. "When you dedicate your entire life to the study of vampires...demons..." Shrugging, she rubbed her neck uneasily. "I got some...information about the Old One when I was very young. I got curious and started to research, before I even got hooked up with the Council. Never lost interest."

"How come you never told us about this yourself, Giles?" Buffy raised one neat eyebrow.

"Well, I...I..."

"The Watcher's Council – in general – doesn't acknowledge the Old One as anything more than a legend." Lia explained quietly. "Without evidence of it..." She trailed off with an elaborate shrug, a slight smile twinkling in her eyes. "Makes me all the more individual, being one of the few believers."

Buffy turned her stake over in her hands, questions being formed and discarded in rapid succession, as she took in the tiny woman's set expression.

"Do you have any idea where any vampires in this town might be found?"

The Slayer shrugged. "The factories and warehouses on the outskirts of town, I guess." She replied reluctantly. "The last time I saw Angelus..."

"You know of the whereabouts of Angelus?" The woman's gold-brown eyes flashed up at the girl. "And you haven't killed him?"

"She only dated him." Xander's derisive tone was icy. "Can't kill him."

Lia straightened up, taking a small step towards the blonde Slayer. Buffy's head was hanging, her knuckles white around her weapon. Tilting the younger girl's head up, brown eyes met hazel. 

"Angel." She spoke softly. "Met him once. Poor git."

"Yeah," Buffy turned away. "Well, he's gone. Angelus is back and in charge."

The dark woman suddenly stiffened, froze. Turning to Giles, the teens warily noticed a strangely feral gleam in her dark brandy-brown eyes. 

"I'm going to do some work, Roo." She spoke softly, her tone one that brooked no refusal, a distracted look on her face. "Give me those books I mentioned and I'll go and get started on what I have to do."

"I can't dissuade you, can I, Lia?" 

"What do you think, Ripper?" Cuffing him across the head, she gathered the spell books in her arms, a small grin on her face. Reaching up, she gently kissed his cheek. "Take care of yourself and I'll do what I can to take care of myself."

Nodding, he watched her make her way out of the library with a backward glance. Giving the Watcher a reassuring smile, the doors swung shut behind her, leaving the Watcher, Slayer and two confused teens staring in her wake.

*

Leaning against the tree trunk, Angelus inhaled a drag from his cigarette. Raising his eyes, he watched the doors of the school open, focusing immediately on the slight figure emerging from the building.

He didn't recognise. Possibly a new student or young teacher: Small – perhaps a few inches shorter than the Slayer, a long black braid hung to her waist. A vaguely exotic scent was carried on the air, piquing his interest. 

Her coffee-coloured skin was marred with pale scar tissue across her face. Ground-sweeping trousers and an over-sized shirt that didn't at all fit with the tangy, exotic scent concealed her tiny frame.

Piles of musty, ancient-looking books were clutched under each arm, arms that seemed too small to carry such a burden.

Drawing level with him, she flashed a nervous, shy smile up at him. "Excuse me, sir?" A British accent, with a trace of possibly Asian origin. Maybe not.

"Can I help you?" Straightening up, he loomed over her, tilting his head in polite enquiry. He flicked the stub of his cigarette away. It fell into the gutter, sizzled out.

She nodded, shifting the weight of the books on her hip, as she looked around. "What's the quickest way to get to the Hall of Records in this place? I'm kind of new in town." A book slipped from her grip, the pages fluttering open on the ground.

"Let me get some of those for you." Angelus flashed her his most gentlemanly smile, taking one of the large bundles from her, stooping to pick up the fallen book, the yellowed paper flapping crisply in the light, evening breeze. 

"There's no need." She protested. "Really. I'm fine." One small hand tried to retrieve the books from him, but was gently pushed away by his large hand.

"I would be only too glad to carry your books for you. It would be a lot easier for you if I walked with you, don't you think?" He inclined his head questioningly, proffering an arm to her. "It's dangerous to walk these streets alone at night."

Shifting her own bundle of books into a more comfortable position, she scrutinised his face carefully, finally giving him a guileless smile. "All right," She agreed, looping her free arm through his. "I accept your gallant offer."

Biting down on his lip to hide a satisfied grin, the dark-haired vampire didn't notice the slow, deliberate smile that had spread across his tiny companion's lips, her face lowered shyly, out of his sight.

In companionable silence, the pair walked off down the street, arm-in-arm.

*

"So, G-Man, your ex...what's the deal?" Xander spread his hands, eyebrows raised. "I mean, how did you get such a hottie and why is she here?"

A troubled look crossed the Watcher's face. "She's a practising Wiccan...surprisingly powerful." He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. "She thought she may be able to-to provide aid, magick aid against Angelus if...if need be."

"Unless the Old One has already got to him." Willow murmured uneasily.

Buffy nodded. "Do you know anything at all about this Oldie that might be helpful, if we have to fight him?" She asked, her eyes fixed on her Watcher's face, the sweat beading his forehead not going unnoticed.

"I-I read some of Lia's work on the subject." He offered, gesturing an open file on the desk. "The Old One is rumoured to have been present at the crucifixion." Not giving the startled Slayer time to interrupt, he continued. "The demon had taken the body of one of his followers and that body still recognised and wanted to follow him, while the demon wanted to taste the blood."

"Talk about a conflict of interests." The younger man quipped.

Giles gave the boy an exasperated look. "It is all rather serious, Xander. The demon did succeed in drinking, but only a drop." He shuddered. "But that was enough to increase its power one hundred fold."

"And this guy is after Angelus?" Buffy's grip on her stake tightened. "Why does stuff like this always happen to me?" She moaned. "Another demon probably as freaky-lookin', more powerful and scarier than the Master...just what every Slayer needs."

Not attempting to correct any errors in her spiel, the Watcher cleaned his glasses with furious concentration, biting his tongue to prevent himself from spilling something he would regret. 

If the Council had disapproved of Lia being in Sunnydale, the revelation of the truth about the Old One to the Slayer might just be too much. Unemployment wasn't really desirable.

"Yes," He finally remarked, raising his head. "If the Old One and Angelus did form an alliance, we would have some serious problems. More severe than anything we've had to deal with before." **Note the 'if', you dozy little bint!**

Blocking out the Slayer's incessant ramblings about impending doom, bloody death and vile mutilations as well as the frantic conversation going on between Willow and Xander, Giles' mind wandered back to Lia, his concern increasing.

It was true, she was an incredibly powerful Wiccan. Years, decades of practice attested to that fact. 

In fact, he doubted anyone had seen her at full power. She normally maintained her 'small and helpless' facade unless she needed to use her abilities in self-defence.

However, to him, her plan to find Angelus had seemed like a suicide mission, but there was no way he could have talked her out of it. It was all he could do to wait and pray that she would come back to them safe and sane.

Her stubbornness and confidence had increased, if anything.

And, as ashamed as he was to admit it, he still loved her to bits for it.

*

The half moon glimmered, a sickly grey hue, peering out from behind the heavy layer of ponderous black clouds.

Glancing down at his companion, Angelus smirked to himself, a tiny, delectable snack, that's what this one would be. Although there was the lingering scent of the Watcher hanging around her.

Gesturing into one of the side streets, he could feel her stiffen, a ripple of fear radiating from her, but – he noticed with distracted surprise – her heart rate remained steady, the rhythm not changing, as if she had some kind of control over it.

"Where are we going?" She sounded scared. That was always a fun bonus. Dark alleys and tall, dark strangers were never a good combination for the faint-hearted. Her dark eyes rose to him, wide with obvious unease.

"For a drink." Angelus remarked dryly, carelessly dropping his handful of books, his hand rising to grip her slender neck in a vice-like hold.

"What are you doing?" She whimpered, struggling feebly against his powerful hold, her tiny fists pummeling against his chest futilely. "Let me go!"

A rumble of laughter shook the vampire, his face shifting into the demonic planes. Tilting his head, his gold eyes burned down at her. "Why would I do a silly thing like that?" He inquired mockingly. "I caught you fair and square."

"Oh God!" Her dark eyes widened even more, her body frozen in apparent terror. "Please...please let me go." She grasped the front of his shirt, her eyes clouding with desperate tears. "Don't hurt me, please."

Angelus regarded her curiously. "Are you...begging me?" Tutting, he shook his head. "It doesn't work that way sweetheart. I kill you. That's how it works, okay?"

Her expression shifted from pure fear to anger. "No! It's not okay!"

The vampire grinned widely. "And you're going to stop me how exactly?" Jerking her head back, he lowered his mouth towards her throat, only stopping when blunt teeth tore into the flesh of his chin, her brown eyes staring at him as he pulled back. "Well, well, a fighter. This is a surprise from such a little one."

"Trying to scare me?" She stared rudely at him, her dark eyes furious. "I don't think so."

"What happened to the little 'Oh, no! Please don't hurt me!' girl?" Squeezing on the softness of her upper arms, he grinned when she winced. "So you don't like pain? Well," Pausing as if in thought, his fangs glinted as he smirked at her. "I haven't tortured anyone for a long time."

"Tortured?" Her voice sank to a fearful squeak, as his face smoothed out into his handsome human features.

Angelus chuckled cruelly. "I'm in the mood for playing." He remarked, leering down at her, one hand leaving her arm to slide down her wriggling body, pressing his fingers cruelly against a spot on her back. "Aren't you?"

Increasing the pressure, he laughed roughly, as she gave a breathless shriek, passing out from the pain.

"All that from a single, painless poke." Shaking his head, he swung the girl's light body up in his arms. "You haven't lost your touch, old boy."

Fading into the shadows, the wind whipped down the deserted alleyway, sheets of musty paper scattering down the dark, deathly silent street, leaving no sign that anyone had ever been there at all.

*

"I'm heading out for a sweep, Giles."

The Watcher looked up from the file he was re-reading. "Very well, Buffy." He looked at the two other teens. "A-are you two going as well?"

"Might as well, G-Man." Xander nodded. "Nothing better to do."

Giles grimaced. "How many more times do I have to tell you, Xander? Please don't call me that, if you value my sanity." **And if you value your testicles...oh my...Lia really is a bad influence on me after all.**

"Sorry, G." Xander smirked, ducking out the door with the red head and the blonde.

A whisper of a breeze rippled through the library, ruffling the pile of papers under the Watcher's hand, as he read the sheets of information Lia had left for him.

He had almost told the young Slayer everything, was starting to wish that he had, but if his former lover's plan went as they both hoped, Buffy would never need to know what had really happened.

They both agreed that the young Slayer would never comprehend the magnitude of the situation they were facing and he still had the utmost faith in Lia and her abilities.

Unless she somehow got into trouble over her head.

But what were the chances of that?

*

Heels clacking loudly on the stone floor of the huge hall, Drusilla flew across the to door as Angelus sauntered in. The limp form of a young woman was slung casually over his broad shoulders, her long dark hair trailing down his back.

"Did you bring me some dinner, daddy?" The vampiress whispered, rising on her toes to plant a hungry kiss on Angelus' lips.

Swinging to still body from his shoulder down into his arms, he inclined his head to his insane childe with a dark smirk. "Well, Dru," He murmured. "What do you think of her?"

Running her fingers through the long, silk-like tendrils of loose black hair, Drusilla's face lit up in delight. "She's perfect." She cooed, raising her blue-grey eyes to her Sire. "Where did you find such a wonderful toy?"

"It's amazing what you can pick up in the street these days." Angelus grinned cruelly, shifting his arm, the girl's head lolling back.

Touching the faint scarring on the tiny woman's face, Drusilla gasped. "It screams of such pain." She purred hungrily, her head swaying from side to side. Pleadingly looking at her Sire, she childishly pouted, begging softly. "Can I play with her, daddy?"

"Sure, Dru." Tipping the figure into his Childe's powerful arms, he bent to claim her mouth in a brutal kiss. "But don't mess her up too much. I want to play with her later...maybe have a bite to eat as well."

Nodding obediently, the vampiress drifted away, crooning over the bundle in her arms.

"Generous tonight, aren't we?" From the shadows, the wheels of Spike's chair squeaked, as he rolled forward into the light, a suspicious look on his face. "Another of the Slayer's little bitches, is she?"

"Just a random girl, my boy." Angelus didn't even dignify his younger childe with a look. "Just a random girl."

Spike sighed. No one was 'just a random girl' in this town. His Sire was just too bloody thick to realise that. "And do I get something to eat then, daddy?" His last word was dripping with disdain.

Finally turning to his childe, Angelus clucked his tongue, folding his arms. "Now, now, Spike." He frowned. "You shouldn't get so worked up."

"It's called hungry these days, Angelus." The blonde hissed softly.

The dark vampire shrugged with a grin. "Well, you know me, Spike, my boy." He leaned close, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. "I hate to force you into rising up and standing on your own. The pressure of such climatic situation might be too much for you to handle. I'd hate anyone to be disappointed if you couldn't cope with what was thrust upon you."

"Like I said before," Pivoting his chair, Spike snorted in disgust. "Generous bastard."

Straightening up, Angelus chuckled softly, as the younger of his childer melted into the darkness. It was good to be and in control. Just like old times.

*

Deep slashes tore away layer upon layer of the thick, scabaceous green lumps, crusts of the dried out substance crumbling and dropping soundlessly to the ground, Mister Pointy doing his work quickly and efficiently.

Finally dropping back, the Slayer eyed her handiwork, raising one hand to brush away the last loose fragments from the rough-textured stone.

"See!" She proclaimed triumphantly, stepping back and letting her two companions closer to examine what she had done. "I told you it said something."

Willow cast a world-weary glance at Xander. "We knew it said something, Buffy." She quietly reminded her friend. "Gravestones usually do."

The Slayer shrugged, wandering over to one of the nearest gravestones and running her hand along the narrow top. "Well, you can read the engraving better now."

"So what does this mean?" Xander inquired from his position beside Willow. "Are you going to change your name to Buffy the Lichen Slayer?"

Casting a disdainful glance back at her friend, she spread her palm on the surface of the tombstone she was standing beside, kicking her legs up in one swift motion to balance easily on one hand on the two-inch wide ledge.

Raising her other hand, she held it parallel with the ground, her legs straightening until she gained her balance, remaining in that position, motionless.

"Why do I have a strange feeling Yoda is meant to be sitting on her feet?" The brunette whispered to his red haired companion.

"Because you want to be him and look down my skirt?" Buffy suggested mildly, swinging her legs down swiftly, then rising up onto her feet, both arms extended, level with her shoulders, as she adjusted her balance slightly.

"I was thinking along the lines of using the force, Buff." Xander tried his best to look hurt by her accusation, but failed miserably.

Beside him, Willow stiffened. "Uh...Buffy...Use the Slayer sense!" She suggested, ducking behind Xander instinctively.

A stake hurtled through the air, closely followed a bundle of hyperactive, bottle-blonde energy that swiftly pinned the whimpering vampire against one of the nearby obelisks, the smoothed grip of the stake still protruding from his stomach. 

"Hi!" She smiled brightly at him. "I'm Buffy! You might know me as the Slayer...and I'm a little bit bored. Can you help me with that?"

Grimacing at the pain shooting from her weight pressing against the stake stabbing into his innards, the vampire growled, only to receive a sharp blow to the face.

"First," Her bright smile seemed to grow even brighter, as she gave the stake an unnecessarily violent twist. "You can tell me who the Old One is." Slamming her hand against his throat, she gave the stake another twist. "Second, you can tell me where Angelus is." She batted her eyes up at him, giving the stake a tug, then pushing it back into the vampire's stomach. "And last, you can tell me where to find them."

"I can't!"

Buffy jutted out her lower lip in a pout. "You can't? Does that mean you know and you aren't telling me? That's not nice."

The vampire cringed, as she angled the stake upward inside his body, slowly giving it a firm push. "They'll kill me!" He gabbled desperately.

"You're saying this to the Slayer who has a stake stabbed in your gut?" One eyebrow rose. "If you want, I could get my Holy Water and crucifix, then we could have some fun. How about it? Do you wanna tell me yet?"

Looking from the wicked grin on the petite Slayer's face to the stake in her hand, he winced. "I can tell you where to find Angelus, but I don't know anything more than that, I don't know anything about the Old One, I swear!"

"Are you sure?" She reached for her pocket, drawing out a small glass bottle. "Or do you need some...help to tell me everything you know?"

"Okay!" Babbling fearfully, the vampire stared at her. "I'll tell you everything I can, if you swear you won't hurt me."

"What's to stop me?" She inquired pleasantly, pulling the cork out of the little bottle with her teeth and smiling up at him. If anything, the vampire paled. "A vampire who dislikes pain...this is original." Raising the bottle, the humour fled from her features. "Talk."

From behind her, her two friends exchanged glances. "Remind me never to get on her bad side." Xander muttered, looping his arm through Willow's leading her off to the nearest bench, leaving Buffy to her interrogation.

*

Her shrill screams were still reverberating through the dark halls when Angelus threw the doors open with a growl, storming into the dimly-lit room, his eyes blazing with golden, demonic fury, fangs bared.

Barely feet behind him, Spike propelled himself forward in his chair, his face a mask of concern that he was desperately trying not to show.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Angelus' dark gaze flitted around the room. On one side of the room, their victim hung limply by her wrists that were encased in hefty manacles, her whole body held semi-upright by chains stretching out from the wall. 

Leaning heavily on her knees, her head lolled forward, dark hair obscuring her features, loosened from the braid.

On the opposite side of the room, Drusilla crouched in the darkest corner of the room, her dark eyes staring blankly ahead, her arms wrapped tightly around her upraised knees, her lower lip trembling.

"Dru? Did you have a vision?"

Raising her slender hands shakily to her temples, the vampiress twisted her fists into her hair, dark tufts falling from her fingers, her mouth moving silently, eyes wide with apparent terror.

Sliding carefully out of his chair, the blonde vampire tenderly gathered his lover in his arms, coaxing her hands away from her tattered mane, holding her close as she burrowed into his chest, trembling furiously.

A muffled chuckle from behind him caused Angelus to whip around in time to see the chained woman raise brandy brown eyes to his golden ones, sardonic smile curling her lips. "Surprise, poppet." 

Crossing the room in three strides, the vampire wrapped a hand around the woman's scarred throat, growling dangerously. "What the hell have you done to her?" He demanded, his face close to hers.

"Nothing!" There was a dull, metallic pop and two chains swung up to smash the Master vampire violently across the face, sending him stumbling backwards.

Straightening up, the tiny woman smiled brightly. "Why? Do you think I should?" Another swing of the chain caught Angelus off-guard, the impact knocking him onto his back. Pausing to remove the manacles from her wrists, she tutted. "You know, bondage just isn't fun if the chains aren't in good nick."

The massive vampire lunged at her again, but she side-stepped deftly, swinging one of the chains to wrap around his ankle, then tugged swiftly, pulling his feet out from beneath him, downing him again.

Standing over him, she sighed, wrapping one of the long chains slowly around her wrist. "I hate to tell you this," She remarked casually, seeming oblivious to the vampire who was getting to his feet. "But patience really is a virtue."

With barely six feet between them, Angelus cocked his head, eyeing her. "Well, I'm not exactly the virtuous type." Raising his hand to touch his bruised jaw, he grimaced, taking a slow step towards her. "And I can't help what type you are. Some kind of witch or something, no doubt."

"I think I prefer 'or something'." She replied, raising her eyes from the chain on her wrist and tossing her thick hair back carelessly, imitating her forward step, reducing the distance between them further. "Witch suggests black pointy hats, cauldrons and warts." She pulled a face. "I don't like stereotypes much."

"Like drop dead sexy vampires?" Leering down at her, his eyes flitted over her frumpily-clad body rudely. "Explain to me why so many bitches are willing to jump the bones of an undead corpse."

Hands on her hips, she raised a dark eyebrow. "You're flattering yourself a bit, aren't you, mate? Who said anything about jumping your bones? I tend not to fancy my chances with gits whose egos are to inflated to let anything else...grow."

"Fiery, aren't we?" He bent close, a dark look on his face. "But you'll be on these bones, whether you want to be, or not."

"Oh, bite me." She spat, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Don't mind if I do." Grabbing a handful of her loose hair, he twisted his fist and jerked her head back, baring her throat and plunging his fangs deep into the scarred flesh, her blood welling to the surface.

Writhing in the blonde vampire's arms, Drusilla threw back her head, releasing a high-pitched scream, struggling against the grip of her startled lover, fighting frantically, desperately to escape his hold.

Spike, however, was watching the small captive's face, listening to her heartbeat. A frown crossed his features at the expression of sheer pleasure that crossed her face.

Her fingers twisted into Angelus' dark hair, forcing his mouth harder against her. The pounding of heart increased in volume, but the rhythm remained steady, confusingly so.

Gagging, Angelus suddenly tore his mouth away from her, throwing her back from him with unnecessary violence, ragged choking gasps ripping through him. The women fell heavily, turned her face up to stare balefully at him.

Spitting and hacking, her blood smeared his chin and mouth, hissing and bubbling wherever it touched, as if it was tainted with Holy Water. Wracked with convulsions, it took the vampire all his control to remain upright.

"What the hell are you, bitch?" He managed to mumble around his blistering, swollen tongue, staring at her furiously, as she lazily raised one hand and traced it over the gouges in her neck, the wounds sealing over. 

Rising to her feet smoothly, her eyes never left his. The casual expression on her face sent a shudder down his spine.

Behind him, he was absently aware of Drusilla's wails trailing off to soft whimpers, Spike's voice gently soothing her. But his attention was focused on the petite woman who stood carelessly in front of him.

"I'm me." She replied brightly, almost too brightly. Looking from one confused vampiric countenance to another, she flashed a wide grin at each of the triad.

Clinging to Drusilla protectively, Spike wondered briefly if his Sire was suicidal or just plain crazy. There was something off about the chit and Angelus seemed to be the only one who hadn't noticed.

Angelus took a threatening step towards her, growling softly, his legs faltering shakily beneath him, one fist bunched against his stomach, as if in pain.

"Boy," A finger trailed across her throat, her pleasant, cheerful expression remaining in place, in spite of Angelus' growing loss of control. "Haven't had a love bite like that in...well...a very long time."

"Answer the question." The dark vampire snarled, his legs going out from underneath him, leaving him slumped on his knees in front of the tiny girl.

Raising an eyebrow, she took a step closer to him. "You know, Angelus," She remarked, patting him head patronizingly. "I'm sorry if it burns a bit, but as the great ones say..." She paused, with a frown, her hand resting on the fallen vampire's head. "Well, kinda...take your Holy H2O and burn your enemies to tiny bits."

With a growl, his arms locked around her waist, tackling her to the ground only to feel her slight body twist in what seemed like an unnatural way, her knee thrusting up between his legs and lifting him two feet in the air.

With the leverage, she tucked her legs up and slammed her feet up against his stomach, sending the huge vampire sailing ungracefully through the air, to collide with the wall on the far side of the room with a sickening crunch.

Tumbling in an unceremonious heap to the floor, near his two helpless childer, his eyes snapped up furiously, the threatening growl in his throat more than stating that he meant to fight, to the death if need be.

Both were on their feet in an instant, circling one another dangerously. Dropping into a fighting stance, the massive vampire glowered down at his small opponent, attempting to use his height as an intimidation device.

She seemed oblivious, happily chatting away. "So...street fighting? Smashing! Haven't done that for a while. Any rules? Anything goes?" When the vampire's only response was a thunderous snarl, she chuckled softly. "Let's make this fair."

*

"Buff, c'mon." Xander whispered urgently. "This is the kind of good idea that's ...well...not."

The blonde flashed a wide grin back at him. "C'mon, Xander." She teased him, pausing to delicately stab a stake into a nearby vampire. "What's the problem? We know where he is. We sneak up on him. We attack. We leave."

"We sneak into vampire territory." The brunette bit back a yell as a hand dropped on his shoulder, whirling with his cross raised to find an equally-pale Willow standing behind him, her lips a thin, bloodless line. "Will, tell Buffy this is craziness."

"I agree with him, for once." Willow whispered, her eyes flicking around uneasily. "There are too many vamps for you to fight them all."

The Slayer shrugged. "Okay." She replied, continuing to pick her way towards a stack of wooden crates, hoisting herself onto the lowest one. "You guys head back to the library and I'll go and scout on my own."

"Leave you? Go home? Alone? Without protection?" The brunette stared up at her, in obvious dismay. "Please tell me you're joking!"

He was greeted by the Slayer's back, as she continued to easily climb the crates, heading towards one of the many shattered windows that lined the filth-coated walls of the dark factory, a dim light shining suspiciously from it.

"Do we have to do this?"

Willow gave him a weak grin, climbing after her friend. "Look like we have to." She replied quietly. "Under prot..."

She was cut off, by a gasp of surprise from Buffy. "What the hell...?"

"What is it?" Xander abruptly started climbing. "What didn't I see? What's going on in there? Did I miss something?"

The two girls made no reply, staring mutely in through the shattered glass at the bizarre scene that was unfolding before them. Reaching their side, the teen's dark eyes widened in surprise, his jaw sinking as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

Giles' tiny ex-lover had apparently just torn off her frumpy, Watcher-style clothes, leaving her slight, lithe and muscular body concealed only by some kind of skintight leather-like catsuit that covered her from shoulder to foot. Dark hair fanned out in loose ripples across her back.

A dangerous-looking, mini-mace tipped chain was slung low on her narrow hips, the dull metal glinting in the harsh light of the factory, either a very decorative and vicious belt or a pain-inflicting weapon.

With one slim hand, she grasped the mace-less end of the chain and – with a flick of her wrist – jerked it from her body, twirling it like some kind of deadly ninja weapon. Never breaking pace, she stalked towards Angelus, a cool, confident smile on her face.

The expressions of the three vampires would have sent the Slayer laughing , if the situation hadn't been as confusing and unnerving: Drusilla looked like she had just been given the last Rites, Spike looked like he was trying to think too hard and Angelus...well, Angelus simply looked angrier than any of the teens had ever seen him before.

"I think there's something Giles didn't tell us." Buffy murmured to her two companions, as Lia bent over backwards to avoid a vicious swipe from the dark vampire's claws, only for her feet to snap up and catch him in his midriff, knocking him back several paces. Using the momentum of her back push, she flipped easily over onto her feet.

Before he had a chance to recover his footing, she whirled down on one knee, her other leg snatching his out from underneath him, leaving him sprawled flat on his back on the floor, as she rolled to her feet like a cat.

"I'm starting to see why Giles liked her." Xander muttered softly. "She has style."

"Uh huh." Buffy acknowledged, logging every move into her memory. If the woman survived this, she would be giving some one-on-one coaching, that was for sure.

All three winced, when Angelus grabbed one of the woman's wrists, jerking her arm up behind her back. 

With a swift twist and a dislocated shoulder, she seemed to bend in half to duck under his long legs, taking his arm with her and jerking upright for his own arm to viciously slam – full-force – into his crotch.

The strength carried in that single pull whipped Angelus head over heels, smashing him down on his back on the floor again.

"Definite style." The Slayer whispered, impressed. She had expected to be pulled into the fight to help the tiny woman, but now, it was obvious this particular woman could take anything that was thrown at her.

Willow nodded in weak acknowledgement. "She fights like some kind of super Slayer...only a tiny one."

"You don't think...?" Hazel eyes met green and brown.

The two lifelong friends exchanged glances and shrugged expressively, returning their attention to the fight still raging on. "Whoever she is," Xander stated the obvious. "She's a lot more than Giles let on."

Buffy and Willow nodded in silent agreement, as the dark-haired woman bent over the fallen-again Angelus and hooked one tiny hand around his throat, his hands clawing futilely at her slender wrists.

With a lazy grin, she raised her arm, lifting the struggling vampire up carelessly, holding him a foot above the ground.

*

"Well, that was refreshing." Flexing her arm, the woman sent Angelus hurtling across the room again, his face breaking the impact of his body against the wall, a spurt of blood erupting from his nose.

Pulling the tangled strands of her hair back, she wiped the faint traces of sweat from her pale face and brushed her hands down her barely-clad body suggestively, her eyes settling on the blonde vampire icily, as if measuring him as an opponent.

Turning her attention back to the cursing Angelus, she smiled as brightly as ever. "Maybe now, you'll think twice about buggering with my friends and their lovers, eh?" Taking a step towards him, she tilted her head. "What say you? Have you learned a lesson?"

"You leave here," Angelus stumbled to his feet, his face distorted and swollen. "And I kill the Slayer, the Watcher and each and every person they care for, slowly and painfully. They will all die cursing your name, because of your stupidity here tonight."

"My stupidity?" The woman laughed for the first time, a deep, throaty sound. "I didn't just get smashed into a wall or have my arse well and truly kicked, did I? I think someone's Sire didn't do a very good job of defining stupidity."

Beyond the dark vampire, the blonde was shaking his head in despair for his Sire's impetuous and stubborn nature. She had insulted his pride now. There was no doubt that the greatest fight was yet to come. And still, her bloody heartbeat stayed the same.

"That won't prevent me from tearing each of their throats out and painting this pathetic town red with their blood." He snarled.

"Damn." She laughed again. "I heard you were into the torture. I thought revenge against me would at least merit a good round of weeks of painful, agonizing mental and physical torture. I guess you can't take the pressure."

"I'll kill you first." He rumbled, rising to his feet, notably unsteady.

Tutting in mock-despair, the woman took a deliberate step towards him, shaking her head slowly. "What are we going to do with you, Angelus, my boy?"

Stumbling forward a pace, he found the strength to viciously backhand her, her head snapping round. Almost simultaneously, the vampire grabbed at his stomach with a howling cry, falling to his knees as a burst of blood erupted from his mouth.

The crimson flood splattered on the cold stone floor, hissing and spitting, eating into the surface like some kind of acid.

"You really picked the wrong girl to piss off, Angelus." There was a core of steel in her voice that sent a tremor through the two younger vampires. One hand rose to massage her cheek, her face still turned away from the eldest of the triad.

"Whatever you did..." Gagging and coughing, his body clenched down into a tight foetal position, his eyes blazing at her. "What you've done to me...you'll regret it...I swear you'll regret it..."

Throwing a hand over her shadowed eyes, the slight woman feigned a sob of fear. "Oh! I'm so scared." She shook her head slowly, mockingly. "That threat just gets scarier with every hearing." Squatting down beside the seething Angelus, she tilted her head to gaze at him impassively. "I'll have you know that those were the last words of the L.A. master before he went..." She leant closer and barely whispered. "Poof."

On the other side of the room, the blonde vampire suddenly understood why his Princess was so terrified, his eyes wide. "Bloody hell..."

Turning her face back to Angelus, her tangled mane of heavy black hair was slowly pushed back, her thin face shifting, dark eyes melding into a fierce, flaming shade of molten gold.

"Told them I was looking for you." She remarked casually, straightening up and flipping him onto his back, standing over him. The spike heel of her boot pressed against his throat, made him gag as she smiled at him.

Continuing as if she didn't have a Master vampire writhing under her heel, she sighed, sounding almost wistful. "They didn't want to help me." Pouting, a disappointed look crossed her face. "No one ever wants to help a little old lady any more."

Bending her knee, she leaned forward, resting her forearms on her thigh, her eyes never leaving his, as she remarked. "They accused me of being crazy, you know. Told me I was just a nutty vampire." 

The tip of her heel broke the skin of his throat, a trickle of blood oozing down his pale skin. "I couldn't let them live after they insulted me like that."

Gasping as she increased the pressure, Angelus winced in pain, as she continued. "They believe me now, though. It took the Master the longest...five days...he was screaming and begging by the time I finished with him."

If it was possible, both of Angelus' childer and the teenagers at the window would have sworn the elder vampire's deathly-white face paled. Out of her human guise, the petite vampiress terrified even him. It was impossible, but here was the most powerful vampire in the World – and quite possibly the tiniest one.

Forcing his mouth to function, he rasped. "What do you want with me?" Trying to sit, he was slammed firmly back down.

She smiled, shrugging. "A bit of fun." She explained, stepping back a pace, allowing him enough leverage to pull himself into a sitting position, his eyes flaming up at her.

"I'm no one's fun." He hissed, scrambling to hiss feet and lunging for her throat, claws and fangs bared.

"Whoa, boy!" With a rough laugh, she managed to side-step again, kicking the backs of his knees, dropping him to the floor and swiftly stepping directly behind him, her hands latching onto his broad shoulders. "That was uncalled for!"

Her slight right hand slid around his neck, gripping his jaw in an iron hold, her left hand holding him motionless by his shoulder.

The top of his head reached her eye level and she peered over his shoulder at him, lowering her head to lick the ooze of blood from the puncture mark inflicted by her heel.

"You must know how ridiculous this looks, big boy." She murmured softly, brushing her cheek dangerously close to his.

"Screw you." Jerking against her grip, he felt her powerful thighs clamping around his upper arms, forcing them back, his elbows nearly touching behind his back, immobile. Unable to move, a low growl rumbled through his body, only serving to elicit a laugh from his captor.

"You shouldn't mess with me, poppet."

"Says who?"

Her left thumb rose, one razor sharp claw tracing lightly down the bare skin of his neck. "You ask the only vampire to hit the bi-millenial 'Says who?' and then you wonder why the entire South Beach clan went tata." The claw pressed a little harder, raising a narrow white welt.

"Bitch."

"That's just what I am." She agreed softly, her lips close to his ear, her breath startlingly warm against his skin. "But you would do well to remember that I'm a bitch with more power than you have in your little finger."

Gritting his teeth, Angelus fiercely demanded. "What do you want? You kick my ass. Why not just kill me?"

Sinking her claw into his neck, raising a thin rime of blood, the Old One rested her chin on his shoulder, tracing her tongue up the freshly opened wound. Angelus shivered, trying to twist away from her.

"Here's the thing," She murmured. "I said I found you cause I wanted to have some fun, remember? Well...there's one thing I do for fun and I haven't done it with a male since my run in with Heinrich...he was really a looker in his day."

"You want me to fuck you?" The dark vampire snorted.

With a rich chuckle, the Old One shook her head, brushing her fangs lightly over the bared skin of his throat. "Nothing so crude, my boy." She replied seductively. "What I want to do is a lot more...entertaining. Sex just doesn't seem...right. That's what you wanted, if I recall correctly. You predicted I would jump your bones."

Raising her head, Drusilla stared over at the Old One, her expression one of superstitious awe, her face pale. "Spike," She breathed, clutching his hand. "We're going to have a new mother to make our bad daddy behave."

An amused smile crossed Lia's face. "Smart kid you raised there...aside from the whole insanity issue."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The dark vampire yelled with pain, as she brought her thighs – and his elbows – to touching point, his shoulders popping from their sockets. The fingers of her left hand pressed bruisingly into the flesh of his shoulder.

"Just what she said." The fangs brushed his jugular once again, sending a tremor shooting down his spine. "I'm here to make their oh-so-bad daddy behave himself." Nuzzling his ear, she purred. "I'm going to make you beg, Angelus."

*

"Oh Goddess!" Willow's hand clamped over her mouth, green eyes wide with shock surprise, shaking her head. "I never thought...believed I'd actually see this happening..."

Her blonde and brunette companion's exchanged glances, turning to look at the red head in confusion. "Care to share, Wills?"

"Don't you see what she's doing?" pointing in the window, she gestured to the kneeling Angelus and the slight woman behind him, full gameface brushing against Angelus' neck, his face a mask of fury and barely concealed lust.

Xander shrugged. "Giles' ex-hottie is a vampire and she's getting smoochies from Angelus?"

"She kicked his ass." Buffy murmured. "Somehow, I don't think it's going to be smoochies. He looks pissed as hell about it."

Willow nodded eagerly. "She's going to dominate him." She stated excitedly, looking as if she was going to start bouncing up and down and clapping her hands. "No human that I know of has ever seen a domination of a Master Vampire!"

"Hold on a second...if I'm right...she's the Old One?" Willow nodded, a frown of thought marring Buffy's expression. "So, she's way old?" Again, Willow nodded. "Shouldn't she be in control of him anyway?"

"Master Vampires don't usually accept control from anyone, unless they're completely dominated by a stronger Master." Willow explained softly, receiving surprised looks from her two companions. "I read the Watcher Diaries." She shrugged, with a wry grin.

"How exactly does a master vampire get...dominated?" Xander asked weakly. "And do I want to be watching this?"

Bending closer to the window intently, Willow shrugged. "It all depends on the purpose. If she just wants to be in control, it's usually blood rituals. Sometimes is sex. I think it'll be fascinating to see how they work."

"And how do we know if he's accepted?"

Willow's grin lit up her face. "He'll beg for mercy."

"Oh!" Buffy's eyes snapped back to the window, a wicked smirk curling her lips. "In that case, I say we stay and watch this."

*

Struggling against the senior vampire's steely grip, Angelus couldn't decide whether to be simply angry or terrified that such a tiny, insignificant looking vampiress could have overpowered him and humiliated him like this one had.

Or aroused.

Without even trying, her electrifying touch was making him hungry for more, willing to beg for her touch, prepared to submit to her.

Which was just plain weird. He never submitted. He hadn't submitted to the Master, when the Master had challenged him all those years ago and yet, now, he was tempted to beg this midget vampiress to whip his ass and screw him senseless.

Again, he tried to move his head, only to feel the motionless pressure of her small hand around his jaw, which he knew she would snap if he tried to pull away. 

"Playing hard to get, are you?" Her sultry voice was low, soft and rich as honey. Her hand on his left shoulder moved slightly lower, her claws raking over his chest through his dark shirt, raising ridges without breaking his pale skin.

The hold her thighs had on his upper arms was also a worrying factor, he noted absently, as she ran one long claw down his ear, digging into the skin to raise a row of neat ruby droplets along the soft flesh.

Imagining those legs – that vicelike grip around his body – in the throes of passion was almost more than he could bear. Growling deep in his throat, he pressed his eyes shut, unwilling to give in, fighting her every step of the way.

Until her cool tongue curled up his ear, drawing every tiny droplet of blood between her lips with a soft purr of pleasure.

"Look at me, Angelus." She whispered, her lips warm and silky on his ear. "Look at me and tell me what you want."

Her hand fell away from his chin to rest on his shoulder, lightly enough to let him know he had a choice, but firmly enough to know that she could still take him down if she wanted to. She could tell he was weakening, he knew she could.

Grimacing, he opened his eyes, to see Spike and Drusilla staring uneasily at him. Raising his head, he gave the vampiress a fang-filled grin. "I want..." He growled huskily. "You...to go to Hell, bitch."

"Are you sure?" Her hands slid down his chest, claws sinking deep into his skin and pulling slowly upwards with enough force to rip eight bloody furrows painfully into the flesh, leaving him shuddering in pain and pleasure. Too soft for the other vampires to hear, she whispered seductively. "I could put you through all the tortures of hell and more...wanna see?"

Resting her chin on his shoulder, she ran one fingertip lazily up the runnel of blood, raising it to her mouth and drawing it between her lips, making certain he could see.

Trying to turn his face away, to ignore the sight of a fiercely beautiful demon savouring his blood, he felt her hand lock around his jaw again, holding him still, forcing him to watch, as she leaned over his shoulder and delicately lifted a splash of crimson from his chest.

Angelus growled. As if feeling her tongue on his skin wasn't bad enough, now he had to watch her playing with him.

The pressure on his arms lessened slowly, her slight figure swinging easily around in front of him, his eyes level with the promising dip of her leather garb, revealing the soft swell of her breasts to his leering eyes.

Still cupping his chin tightly, she forced him to look up at her face, to see the cool smile on her lips, as her claw traced down his cheek, a dark drop of crimson running from the pin prick of a cut she opened.

Lowering her head, her throat brushed against his lips teasingly, as she lapped his blood from his cheek, her mouth gliding to his ear, fangs nipping at his lobe. "Tell me what you want, Angelus." She murmured, releasing her hold on him.

In a blink, she was slammed flat on her back on the stone floor, her arms pinned above her head by one of Angelus'. His massive body blotted out her smaller one, his eyes gleaming with barely contained mirth and rage.

"I think I'll leave it to your imagination." He snarled savagely, smashing his fang-filled mouth viciously down on hers.

*

"I guess that means he wasn't dominated?" Xander asked faintly.

"I'm going in there." Buffy was on her feet in an instant, only halted when Willow grabbed her arm, jerking her back from the ledge. "Will? What are you doing? She's in trouble. I have to help her!"

Willow shook her head. "Going in there would only get you killed." She whispered urgently, her expression set. "When vampires are battling for domination, they don't let anything stop them until one has accepted the other. Anyone who gets in the way usually ends up dead."

"But..."

"No buts, Buffy." Inclining her head, the red head gestured to the two figures. "I have the feeling the Old One is toying with him. It isn't over yet."

*

"Having a bit of trouble, are you?"

Angelus flashed a dark look up at her, the grin on her face infuriating more than the fact he couldn't pry her slender thighs apart. Catching her across the face with the back of his free hand, his knuckles crackled against her jaw.

"Daddy's being frightfully silly."

"Shut the fuck up, Dru."

The vampiress stared balefully at her Sire. "I ought to wash out your mouth with cursed water." She frowned, annoyed. "Grandmummy, may I?"

The dark haired vampiress pinned beneath Angelus' huge body shrugged. "I guess so." She replied pleasantly, turning her eyes to Angelus, who was staring at his childe, confused. "Oh, Dru, don't tell me you didn't tell him who I was."

The other vampiress pouted, whimpering softly. "A surprise present." She replied, twisting her hands together. "A jack in a box."

"I think an ancestor is more the word I was thinking, childe." Making use of Angelus' confusion, the tiny vampiress jerked her hands free, swiftly flipping the larger vampire onto his back, straddling his waist, her legs pinning his arms by his sides.

Leaning forward slowly, placing her hands on the floor on either side of his head, Lia's dark hair hung down like silken curtains, her eyes fixed on Angelus' face. "Say hello to your great, great, great Grandmum, poppet." She breathed, rolling her hips down against his body.

"You may be an ancestor," Gritting his teeth, he growled back at her. "But I accept no mistress, ever."

"Yes," She smiled coldly. "So your dear Sire told me. Mind you, young Heinrich said the same thing, when I told him I was going to make him beg. You remember Heinrich, don't you, my dear boy?"

"The Master..."

"So that's what he was calling himself, was it?" Shaking her head with a laugh, she bent closer, her lip brushing his ear. "He belonged to me. His eldest Childe belonged to me too. And now, since you are truly out of line, it's your turn to be claimed." She grabbed his jaw in a fierce grip. "I am Aurelia of the line of Aurelius. You are of my blood and you belong to me."

"My Sire belonged to no one." He spat. "Nor will I."

"Oh, but she did." Smoothing his cheek with one small hand, she smiled icily. "I may have taken the memories of that day, but her demon still acknowledged me as it's Mistress, if I was near." She chuckled coolly. "It confused the hell out of her."

Her pelvis ground down on his again, as she nipped at his throat, the soft swathes of her hair sweeping across his cheeks. Bucking against her, Angelus snarled. "Get off me. I will never submit to you."

"Say pretty please."

"Never."

"So be it." He fangs tore into his throat, burying themselves as deep as possible. Angelus arced against her with a gasp of shocked pain, the sensation of his blood draining out of him more painful than he remembered. And slower. Much, much slower.

Sliding two fingers down her cleavage, she produced a tiny vial, containing some kind of clear liquid. Withdrawing her fangs and sitting upright slowly, she eyed her erstwhile descendant speculatively.

Blood still oozed from the wounds on his neck, his body so lacking in blood, he could barely find the strength to blink. The tiny woman above him unscrewed the lid of the little bottle and smiled at him, licking the traces of his blood from her lips.

"Do you want me to stop, Angel?" She murmured, letting a drop spill from the vial onto his open cuts, the flesh hissing. Angelus gave a bellow of pain, the Holy Water burning into his skin like acid. "All you have to do is say please."

Her hands slid to his ripped shirt, pulling the tattered shreds aside, to reveal the eight gouges that were only partially healed. With one hand, she laid her claws against the wounds and – slowly and deliberately – reopened each one, raising another roar of pain from the younger vampire below her.

"Did that hurt?" She let her human features slide back into place, her brown eyes sparkling with self-assurance and silent threats. Dipping her finger in the fresh runnel of blood, she licked the crimson stain from her skin, shrugged, then carefully splashed some of her Holy Water onto the bloody muscle that was revealed. Angelus howled again. "How about that?" She added, as if she hadn't heard him.

"Stop!" He gasped. Normally, he could take pain. Any pain, but Holy Water. He had always hated the stuff. It was so damn painful, even compared to crosses and garlic. The way it made the skin boil was a horrifying sensation. And on open skin, it was a hundred times worse.

One of her dark brows rose. "Stop?" She inquired, dribbling some more of the clear liquid onto one of his blood-stained nipples, the sensitive skin bubbling as he released another scream of pain. "Stop what?" She repeated the action to his other ripped nipple. "That?"

"Yes!" He hissed, his body writhing and spasming. Curls of smoke rippled from his burned chest and neck.

"You don't like this?" Grinding the rough material of her catsuit against his charred skin, she pouted, as he whimpered, trying to pull away from her body. "Don't you like it? I thought you liked it. You always gave so much to other people."

Gasping for unneeded breath, the dark vampire's head lolled back, his face rippling with pain and fury.

"Why so quiet?" The small vampiress asked, grabbing his jaw again. "Need a little something to loosen your tongue, do you?" Forcing his mouth open, she held the vial over his cut lips, smiling coldly. "Open wide."

"No! Please!"

Sitting back, the dark vampiress looked down. "What was that?"

"Please...no more..." Turning his face away from her, Angelus' wished he could burn up from the shame, the burning his chest and throat unbearably painful, even to him. He had thought Drusilla bathing Soulboy in Holy Water was bad, but this vampiress had a skill with the stuff that bordered on hellish.

"Look at me, Angelus." She whispered softly, a dangerous note in her seductive tone. "Look at me and tell me, who do you belong to?"

Swallowing hard, he turned his golden eyes towards her, his expression a combination of hatred and awe. "You." He grated out painfully, staring her in the eyes. "I belong to you. Aurelia. The Old One."

"Good boy." Tucking the Holy Water away, she bent forward and covered his mouth with hers, a single one of her kisses enough to convince him it was worth accepting her as Mistress.

If she had practiced other...entertainments, as much as she had her dominating and kissing, he knew that if he stayed on her good side, he might have one helluva treat some time in the future.

*

"So that's all you have to do if you want a vampire to be your love slave forever?" Buffy asked faintly, unable to tear her eyes from the bloody, blistered mess that was Angelus' chest, several of his ribs visible through his torn skin.

Willow nodded, speechless. Behind her, Xander was being sick for the umpteenth time, since Lia had first sunk her claws into the vampire's chest. The wounds were so deep and carefully placed that a human with the same injuries would have died within minutes.

"Ouch."

"That doesn't even come close to covering it." Xander coughed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "As an avid Angel hater, I think he deserved everything he got."

"I didn't say I disagreed." Buffy muttered. She couldn't help but stare, as Lia let Angelus sit up, his body contorted in pain, his wrists covered in welts where the ridges of her leather-clad trousers had grated into the skin.

Their red haired companion twisted her hands together. "That's another person you don't want to get on the bad side of." She muttered softly, still trembling at the memory of what she had just witnessed.

"A bit like me." A new voice growled from behind them.

Xander and Buffy whipped around to see Willow caught in one of five vampires' grasp, his oriental features contorted into demonic planes, his eyes gleaming gold. "Let her go." Buffy whispered harshly, gripping Mister Pointy threateningly.

"I don't think so." The vampire grinned wickedly. "Angelus has been after you for weeks. You and your little friend are going to the Master." He sniffed at the red head's hair. "Maybe for a snack...maybe for more."

"You mean...you're taking us to Angelus?" Buffy glanced back at the window, then at the vampire that was holding Willow. The red head nodded, grimacing as the vampire tightened its grip. "Okay. Let's go then."

"Buff?" Xander muttered questioningly.

"He wants to take us to the Master of the Hellmouth." She shrugged, tucking Mister Pointy. "I think we can try and convince Angelus to let us go...we do have some leverage...ex girlfriend thing, ya know."

With a whimper of malcontent, the brunette teen let himself be dragged into the vampires' lair, along with the Slayer and his life-long friend, the over-large doors slamming ominously closed behind them.

*

Leaving Angelus seated, growling softly, on the stone floor, the Old One lazily got to her feet and sauntered across the room to the spot where Spike and Drusilla still crouched against the wall, eyeing her apprehensively.

"So," Squatting down, she looked from the blonde to the brunette. "Grandchilder of mine. How nice." One hand rose towards Drusilla, only to be pushed aside by Spike, his golden eyes blazing at her.

Pushing the younger vampiress behind him, he growled dangerously. "Stay the hell away from her. She did nothing wrong."

"You think I want to hurt her?" The Old One's demon sent a silent challenge to the blonde's and – wisely – Spike backed down, moving slowly aside, to let her reach up and touch Drusilla's cheek gently, purring gently to reassure the whimpering female. "You got my sending, didn't you, Drusilla?"

Blinking her dark blue eyes, Drusilla's whimpers tailed off, her body unfurling, as she crept over to Lia's side. Both women let their demons surface, rubbing ridged foreheads gently to one another. "That you were coming to visit, mum?"

"That's right." The younger of the duo bowed her head and Lia planted a gentle kiss on the rippled skin. Turning to Spike, she smiled. "You're a very strange vampire, William." She remarked. "You faced me, after seeing what I did to Angel-poos, just to protect her."

Shrugging helplessly, he flashed her a devil-may-care grin. "Love does strange things to people." He replied, visibly relaxing as Drusilla nestled up beside him again, her slender hands spread on his chest as she sought his lips.

Behind her, Angelus stumbled to his feet with a low growl. "Someone's coming."

"With the noise you made, I'm not surprised." Lia straightened up, pushing her hair back over her shoulders and casting a wide grin at him. He returned it with a haughty glare that was pure Angelus. "I'd advise you to get dressed, dear boy. Don't want your minions to know you've been beaten up on, do we?"

Inclining his head in a surprisingly polite bow, he reached into one of the chests, grimacing as pain rocketed through him, retrieving one of the shirts that lay near the top. "Excuse me," She raised an eyebrow. "Mistress...could you help me put this on?"

Laughing softly, she walked quickly over, pulling the sleeves over his massive arms and deftly fastening the buttons, reaching the last one as there was a sharp rapping at the door. 

"Enter." Straightening up, stepping away from Lia, Angelus looked almost like his usual self. The scent of Slayer and her friends made him smirk involuntarily. He had them, in his territory, surrounded.

Lia drifted into the shadows, as the three teenagers were tugged unceremoniously into the room, Xander and Buffy being thrown to their knees before the dark vampire, the red head gagging as her captor gripped her slim throat.

"Hello, lover." Angelus smirked, hands thrust into his pockets – the only way he could stop himself clutching his aching sides.

"Send the stooges away, Angelus." The blonde smiled sweetly. "I think we need to have a little talk, don't you?" The vampire tilted his head quizzically. "What would I find," She continued softly, "If I peeked under that fine shirt of yours?"

Dismissing the grumbling group of vampires, Angelus stormed over and slammed the door behind them, whirling around to glare at the trio, Xander's arm around Willow's waist, holding her steady.

"Chill, my boy." Lia murmured, walking out of the darkness, arms folded across her chest. "No need to get antsy." Looking the Slayer over, she grinned. "So, who did you torture to get directions to this dive?"

Buffy shrugged. "Someone who didn't seem to appreciate Holy Water very much."

"Enjoy the show?" Sauntering over to Angelus, she smiled coolly up at him. "This puppy knows I can kick his ass any time I damn well please, don't you?" He glared at her, only for her to slide one hand under his shirt and force her fingers deep into his burnt flesh. 

"All right! Yes! You can kick my ass any time you damn well like!"

Pulling his face down to hers, she let her demon surface again, Tearing her claws into her throat and forcing him to drink, his mouth latching eagerly onto her wound, his own body achingly drained. 

"That's a good boy." She murmured huskily, caressing his cheek as she pulled away. He purred at her touch, surprising even himself as he licked a drop of her ichor from his fangs.

"But your blood...didn't burn him..." Willow slipped into research mode.

Lia shrugged. "It's one of my skills." She replied mysteriously, her face smoothing out quickly. "I can make it taste repulsive and burn like acid. I can make myself seem like a mortal with a little magick."

"Which explains that soddin' heartbeat of yours!" Spike exclaimed, pulling away from Drusilla's lips for a moment.

"Glad to see someone noticed." The Old One smiled over at him. "I wanted to see if doofus here would notice." She glanced at Angelus who was staring fixedly at the Slayer. "Hey!" Nudging his torn side, she glared at him. "Keep staring and I might just teach her how to claim you. Make you hers for eternity."

"No way!"

Raising her eyebrows, the tiny woman laughed. "I'll take that as a rejection of my kind offer, then?" She murmured. "No matter. From now on, you and your gang will abstain from buggering with my mate. Is that clear?"

"As crystal."

Nodding in approval, the slight vampiress gestured for the Slayer and her friends to move towards the door. "We'll be leaving now." She said, with quiet authority. "And, Angelus, don't forget. Your ass is mine. Touch my mate and you will go to Hell, one way or another."

Rolling his eyes, the dark vampire prowled to the back of the room as the little group left, shutting the doors behind them.

"Er...mate?" Spike looked up from Drusilla. "Who was her mate?"

Angelus shrugged. "No clue." He replied with a fang-filled grin. "So if I accidentally harm them, it won't be my fault, because I didn't know." He paused. "I would assume it was one of my insanely suicidal minions, then. Who else would have the balls to go anywhere near the oldest vampire in the world?"

*

Twisting her hands into his hair, Lia captured his lips in a burning kiss, moaning as his body rose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his hips as he pounded into her, an escape from painful reality more than anything.

With a shuddering groan of release, he plunged into her one last time, his hot seed spilling into her cool body, his full weight sinking down onto her deceptively fragile-looking little form, her soft fingertips brushing his temples gently.

"Feeling better?" She murmured, his hand rising to cup her face. In response, he covered her mouth in a lingering kiss. As he drew back, she smiled tenderly up at him. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

"I'd say so."

Shifting her hand, she caressed the faint, old scar on his neck. He rolled to lie on his stomach beside her, propping his chin up on one hand, his eyes never leaving her face. "You still remember when I gave you that?" She asked softly.

"How could I forget?"

"Well," Rolling onto her side, she drew her finger along his jaw line. "Senility would be a serious factor in that."

Chuckling deeply, he nipped her fingertip lightly. "You really are the cheekiest little cow I've ever met, Lia."

Pulling him down to kiss him again, she pulled a face. "I wouldn't bet on it." She replied softly, her brown eyes meeting his again. A sigh escaped her, as she flopped onto her back. "God, I wish I didn't have to go."

"I know." He agreed sadly. "But we agreed...and you know what the Council are like, if their boss is absent for too long." His smile was far from happy. "One of these days, someone is going to find out about you."

Pillowing her hands behind her head, she stared up at the ceiling. "I know." She replied distantly. "But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." She grinned wryly. "The only problem would arise if they staked me before I had a chance to explain. Imagine that. The mysterious Master of the Council of Watchers being staked because she happened to forget to mention she was a vampire."

"I'd rather not think about that."

Glancing at him, she sighed. "It could happen, though, and we both know it. You know what those self-righteous pillocks are like." Pausing, she chuckled. "As far as they know, I'm the person holding the Old One's leash. I was the only person scary enough."

"They always were shit-scared of you." He agreed, caressing her cheek gently. "And with good reason...only they don't know the best of those good reasons." He gazed at her. "What will you do, if and when they find out?"

"Would that be before or after they try to dust me?"

"I'm not joking, Lia." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "If anything happened to you..."

"I know." Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the sheet slipping from her body, as she reached for one of the t-shirts on the floor. "It's the bond of the mate." She said quietly. Turning to face him, he could see the tears in her eyes. "If I lost you, I don't know what I would do."

"It's not just the mate thing." He reached over, squeezed her hands. "In spite of everything, its still that bloody annoying little thing called love." He smiled sadly at her. "After I lost you, I thought I was given a second chance with Jenny...but I always have and always will love you."

"Sappy git." She smiled weakly at him. "You just want the sex, any time I come to visit."

"Well," He shrugged. "It's always a bonus."

Standing up, she brushed her hands down the shirt, fastening her jeans quickly. "You know that I will always feel the same, Ripper." She murmured, bending to kiss him hard. "Don't ever forget that."

As she turned and ran lightly down the stairs, he waited until he heard the front door slam shut behind her, her footsteps receding out into the night, the silence only broken by the melodious chirping of the crickets. Then she was gone. On her way back to England, back to the job of leading the Council, back to her own lonely Hell.

"As if I could forget, Lia." Giles said quietly, staring absently down at his deserted apartment, a low sigh escaping him. "As if I could."

She had come to help. In his hour of need, she had been the one crazy thing he knew would make sense. The one, single aspect of his past that would always provide reassurance and comfort in the present.

Plus, she had kicked Angelus' ass around the block, just because the bastard had hurt him. He grinned weakly at the thought of his midget lover and the mighty vampire. That was enough to cheer him up a little. She always had been able to make him smile.

Damn, was he gonna miss her.


End file.
